


Greater Good

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dark Padmé Amidala, Multi, Sith Anakin Skywalker, Sith Obi-Wan Kenobi, Threesome - F/M/M, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Palpatine had been a visionary, and had orchestrated the division of the galaxy for the sake of strengthening the whole. Padmé had merely completed his work with the help of the two men she loved.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 180
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	Greater Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thestrongeststars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestrongeststars/gifts).



Padmé stared out the window of her high office. Out of the corner of her eye she noted where the durasteel window frame retained a small crumple. The blast had been yet another dull assassination attempt by the revolutionary elements cropping up across Coruscant and the worlds beyond. She suspected Bail was behind one of the groups and she hated the thought that she might have to execute him someday soon. He'd been one of her more sensible friends. Perhaps he would listen to reason. More than anyone, he should understand the need for a strong central government to ensure the safety of the Republic's citizens.

Her mouth quirked. Old thought patterns were hard to surrender. The Republic had been too weak to survive. Palpatine had been a visionary, and had orchestrated the division of the galaxy for the sake of strengthening the whole. Padmé had completed his work, forging a strong new Empire. All her citizens would live safe under the loving control of their Empress.

The door hushed open behind her. She didn't bother to turn around. "And?"

Obi-Wan said, "The terrorist cell was where we thought. They've been eliminated." He cleared his throat. "The rumors were correct. They were Mandalorian holdouts, hopefully the last we'll see." She doubted that, but there was no need to mar a victory with her worries.

"Good." She did turn her head then. Anakin wasn't at his side. "Were there any casualties on our side?"

"Two clones were wounded."

"Thank them for their service, and pass along my personal wish for their speedy recovery." He nodded once. She assumed he'd already done so. Obi-Wan had always liked the clones. When the time had come to choose, he'd stood with them. There were days Padmé thought his loyalty to her was secondary. Not today, she thought, as he stepped closer, ferocity blazing in his eyes. Battle churned his blood, now that he'd embraced the power of the Dark Side. He hadn't come up here to report.

Padmé pulled him closer with a finger, stroking his beard. "And where is Anakin?"

"He stopped to check in on the twins. He'll be along."

The nursery lay in the interior of this building, deep where a terrorist's strike couldn't reach. Droids Anakin had programmed himself cared for the children. His fears for them, and for her, had brought them to this point together. She encouraged his obsession, gave him the task to be their protector as well as her own bodyguard. Fear made him powerful. She needed him to be powerful.

She kissed Obi-Wan once, quickly, before pushing his shoulders. Taking the hint, he knelt at her feet, eyes downcast and waiting. He'd wait for her order for hours if she asked, his balls aching and his cock straining against the confines of his clothing.

Padmé stepped forward with one leg, allowing the slit in her skirt to show all the way up to her hip. She'd worn this gown on purpose today. "You may start if you like."

"Yes, my Empress." His hand found her calf, fingers sliding along the lines of muscle under her skin. His lips against her knee and the accompanying brush of his beard did tickle. Wet kisses pattered up the inner length of her thigh as Padmé struggled not to jump at the ticklish motions. Obi-Wan's beard bristled in a smirk she felt against her skin.

"Go on then," she said. He turned his head to his task, placing his open mouth against the fabric of her undergarment and breathing wet heat against her. His tongue stroked her through the material.

The door to her office opened again. Anakin strode in, his eyes going dark and interested as he saw Obi-Wan on his knees before her. "Am I late?"

"Yes. You'd better catch up."

Jealousy had almost destroyed Anakin. Now he went to his knees beside his old friend, and brought him in for a kiss before taking his place. Anakin's mouth was far more insistent against her, threatening to tear the cloth as he nipped with his teeth. He'd been an impatient lover since she'd first taken him to bed. The passion had excited her then. Now, he was learning patience under Obi-Wan's guidance, though he was not the most diligent student.

She glanced at her desk. The three of them had fallen there together or in pairs before, and the desktop was getting scuffed. "The couch," she said, shoving Anakin's head away from her.

"Yes, my Empress," he replied, voice rough. He wanted her, but he was not in command here. Padmé walked to the long couch that adorned one wall of her office, another place where she'd had them each in turn and together. She took Obi-Wan's hand as they reached the surface, and she dragged him in for another kiss, considering her options.

"Anakin, on your back," she ordered. "Keep your clothing on. Obi-Wan, strip."

"Why's he getting naked?"

"He's prettier."

Anakin scowled at her, though she caught the playful agreement in his eyes. Light pink colored Obi-Wan's cheeks. He led her army in her name, and he'd been sleeping with her for over a year, and still he played the shy virgin as he removed his armor and robes under Padmé's pleased scrutiny. She took his hands and placed them on her panties. He took the hint and pulled them down her legs, pausing to give her one good, solid lick. Her plan wavered, but she chose to stick to it, pushing him away before climbing onto the couch still in her gown and lowering her cunt to Anakin's face. He also took the hint.

Over her shoulder, she said to Obi-Wan, "I want you inside me now."

She would be as happy to lay here for a while, Anakin's tongue working into her, but she'd wanted both her lovers since the chime of their arrival in the building after their work had finished.

Obi-Wan's weight shifted the couch, his hands steadying himself on her waist as he straddled her legs. Two fingers assured himself she was wet. How could she not be? Anakin had opened her labia with two fingers of his own, and his lips closed on the sensitive pearl of her clit, suckling gently. Padmé winced with the good stretch of Obi-Wan's cock sliding all the way into her. He waited, the hands touching her trembling, until she nodded.

Patience. Anakin had no patience, and drove into her with hard thrusts each time she allowed him to fuck her. Padmé loved it, and she also loved that he was learning control from his old teacher.

Obi-Wan set to a gentle, rocking rhythm. Padmé wouldn't and couldn't come from the penetration alone. He served her as a tool, stroking her inside and filling her as Anakin traced out the shape of her name with wet strokes.

Jedi didn't do this. Jedi were forbidden this grasp and touch and play. The secrecy had added an extra layer of passion to her marriage. The bold exhibition they enjoyed now, visible for all to see outside her unglazed window, spread her excitement in a thick miasma of pleasure. Let them watch. Let them see Padmé with her lovers, and let them watch with her when she ordered them to please each other for her amusement. The Jedi avoided sex. The Sith wallowed in every permutation. The only pity was that it had taken them so long to discover that truth, and too the truth that while there were always only ever two Sith, both would answer together to a dark mistress.

She could order them, and point them at a target, and they would bring down their quarry in her name. She could call them, and at her word they would crawl to her feet. She could hold them, sprawled in their bed, and they discuss the new order they were carving out of the ruins of the Republic's rotten heart, and reassure her in turn that this was the best way, the only way. Freedom could only be guaranteed under complete security.

The Jedi hadn't understood. Anakin had understood all too well. Padmé had learned, nearly at the cost of her own life. At their urging, Obi-Wan had come to see things from their point of view. Together, they were strong.

She felt the strength in the hands that clasped to her waist, and felt it in each thrust, deep and good. She enjoyed the strength in Anakin's mouth, from the commands he gave the few survivors of the Order whom they'd allowed to live, to the steady strokes he offered her now, knowing she was close. She was the strong pillar they both clung to, their purpose and their guide. She told them this was right, this was necessary, and they believed her because they believed in her.

Anakin sucked at her clit with a hard pull. Padmé shouted out her pleasure and came, her hips undulating against his lips, Obi-Wan letting out a hard gasp at the feel of her inner walls squeezing him reflexively.

She rode the quakes of her orgasm, enjoying the tender touches Anakin had learned she needed in the receding wake of her own pleasure. Obi-Wan withdrew, and although she couldn't see, she knew when Anakin's mouth moved away from her, it was to take the length of Obi-Wan's prick into his own mouth, sucking hungrily until Obi-Wan groaned.

She shifted herself off him them, knees taking her unsteadily as she got to her feet. Obi-Wan's eyes were closed and his mouth hung open. Anakin's eyes were wide and blue, his mind in perfect attunement with Obi-Wan's. Padmé placed her hand against the hard bulge in his trousers, pressing firmly with the heel of her palm, and she enjoyed his sudden writhing, pushed over by the pressure. He might be learning patience, but some aspects of control had never come up in the Jedi training regimen.

Padmé sighed and stretched. Her body felt good, and her mind eased. Anakin rested on his back. Obi-Wan sank back to kneel in a delightfully obscene mockery of his old meditation stance. Padmé smiled in amusement and returned to her desk, leaving her undergarment on the floor. Her plush chair fitted to her bottom as she sat, and teased just a bit where she was oversensitive. Her nerves still sang, and she was hyperaware of her body. If she touched herself now, she'd come again. Instead she took that good feeling and the electric awareness, and she focused them on her terminal screen. She'd been crafting a new piece of legislation. There must be punishment for disloyalty, but she was not cruel. Now that they'd seized Mandalore, she had at hand a whole planetful of disintegration technology. They said the process was nearly painless.

She looked to her lovers again. Already they were recovering from their own pleasant highs, and both met her eyes expectantly. Padmé had no use for pain. She turned to her screen again, and wrote her decree, formalizing the penalty for rebellion. This surely would deter more would-be terrorists even better than the threat of losing their heads at the end of a red blade, and deterrence served the greater good, ensuring peace and prosperity for all.

The Empress smiled.


End file.
